She stepped off the elevator and into the semi-crowded club. It was evident by everything from the cocky click of the woman's Prada heels to the bounce of her long, fluffy blonde locks that this was no longer Sydney Bristow. Her cover was as Claire Worthington, daughter of a wealthy Californian cattle rancher, in Europe on a modeling tour. Nope. This woman definitely wasn't Sydney!
She was there tailing Hugo Randolf, Ex KGB leader and right hand man to her mother, gaining whatever information she could on the whereabouts of his newest Rambaldi artifact. Inwardly she sighed. How much more of this stupid Rambaldi dude's felgercarb was she going to have to risk her neck for.
Her mission was to get Hugo alone, and get the information from him.
Looking around the room, she didn't spot him anywhere. She glanced at her diamond encrusted watch, and saw it was only 8. She was an hour early.
She headed for the bar. The heels she was wearing were already killing her feet and she needed any excuse to sit down. She sat down, quickly debating in her head what a model would drink at a bar. Deciding, she ordered a strawberry daiquiri. It sounded like something a model would drink, and sounded good to her.
Nodding her thanks to the bar tender she took the drink and turned in her stool to survey the room.
Her eyes landed on a man leaning up against the wall, reading a paper. Moving along, her eyes traveled across the length of the floor. There was a fire escape out of the third window. Might be good for escaping. Despite her thoughts of you're on a mission her eyes trailed back over to the man in the corner. She couldn't help but think how cute he was.
She giggled to herself, realizing she had been caught staring at him.
He smiled, moving the newspaper out of the way, revealing the most gorgeous face Sydney had seen in a long time.
She turned in her stool, hoping to stifle the smile creeping up her face. A couple seconds later she heard someone sit down in the seat next to her. She shook her head as the man ordered a beer from the bartender.
His accent was American, she thought with happiness. She slowly, hoping to be discreet, turned in her seat.
"Hi there." the man said, turning his head to face her.
She flashed him a smile, replying, "Hi."
They both sat there for a minute, eyes locked. Both were slightly shocked at the chemistry that was already flowing between the two of them.
He finally broke the silence. Extending his hand with a friendly smile he said, "Michael Vaughn... you are?"
***************<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>What do you think? More soon if you like it! K. Well let me know. Love ya! ~G</span>

Remembering she was on a mission, she quickly replied, "Claire Worthington. Nice to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine." he said with a smile.
Sydney couldn't help but smile back. He had one of the most gorgeous smiles she had ever seen.
"So Mr. Vaughn, what brings you to London?"
"How do you know I don't live here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She giggled, taking a sip of her drink. "Accent."
"You're a clever one.... No.. No, I'm from the states." he said with a chuckle.
"Really. Me too. Where are you from?"
"D.C. I'm here on business. And you?"
"L.A. I'm here on a modeling tour."
"Really!?" he said, setting down his drink and looking at her in interest. "A model?"
"Yeah." she nodded, tilting her head, with curiosity. "Why do you act so surprised?"
"No reason. You just don't seem like a model is all."
"Uh.... thanks." she laughed.
"No... no no no. It's just my cousin is a model and she is always such a brat.
Her and all her friends she brings over to my Mom's. No, you're just really friendly is all I meant."
"Well, thank you then." she said, with a laugh.
"No problem."
There was a moment of silence as she took another sip of her drink.
"So, what do you model?" he asked, chuckling at the look on her face.
She thought about it for a moment. Remembering her boss telling her to make up the details of her cover she quickly made up a lie.
"Actually, I'm an intern. I just go watch and help out with the clothes and stuff. I'm still learning."
"Really. I see why you have a sweet demeanor. Talk to me in a year."
She laughed, almost spitting out her drink. "Hey!"
"Only kidding." he chuckled.
"Yeah, okay." she said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.
"So... you know what I do. What about you?"
His face changed, as if the topic was painful. "I'm a lawyer." he said coolly.
"Oh, a smarty pants." she said nudging him and smiling.
He laughed, taking a sip of his drink and looking down.
Suddenly his cell phone rang. He smiled over at her, pulling it out of his pocket.
"Michael Vaughn." he said into the phone.
She saw the smile fade from his features. The color of his skin went from a nice shade of tan, to pale white within seconds.
"Oh my God. Is she okay!?"
There was a pause.
"Yeah. No. I'll be there in a few hours. Okay, bye Tracey." he said hanging up the phone.
He looked over at her trying to smile.
"Um... that was my sister. My Mom got in a car crash."
Her mouth opened in shock. "Michael, I'm sorry! Is she okay."
"They don't know. She's in a comma. But,..." he paused, looking like he didn't want to go. "Well, I've got to go. It was really nice to meet you Claire." he said, extending his hand to shake hers quickly.
She smiled in reply. "You too. I hope your Mom will be okay."
"Thanks." he said with a nod. "Well goodbye Claire."
"Bye Michael." she said, letting go of his hand and watching him turn around and walk to the elevator.
She couldn't help but smile when he got to the elevator he turned around and looked back at her. Realizing she was looking at him too, he waved, looking her in the eyes.
Both were so busy staring at each other that he didn't notice the elevator was there until the elevator man tapped him on the shoulders. He waved on final time, stepping onto the elevator and disappearing in the crowd.
Sydney turned around, and sadly took another sip of her drink.
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So... what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Let me know. More soon! LOL! Tootles. ~GC